More Than I Can Ever Scream
by BelovedShadow
Summary: When a duel gone wrong lands three of our favourite Marauders and one reluctant Severus Snape in the future, how will they cope with a sixth year Harry Potter, who is all too quick to judge them based on their more futuristic selves? SNARRY!
1. And So, It Began

**Disclaimer: I don't own the works of J.K. Rowling! **

**Warning: This will contain Snarry. That's Severus Snape and Harry Potter together in a ROMANTIC relationship. It will most likely (85% sure) contain some pretty graphically detailed sex between the two of them as well. So, if you're not comfortable for that, or if you wish to honour some sort of law that says you're not allowed to read such things – please leave now.**

**A/N: Another Snarry. Sorry, I had a dream about it. Had to write it. Sorry that this chapter is kind of a sticky start, but it has to be this way. Also, I'll warn you now that this fic gets a little sad at parts, but don't worry. I think there's enough happiness to make up for it! **

**Enjoy! **

"_Levicorpus!" _

Severus Snape dodged the spell easily, and quickly scurried to his left, managing to miss the signature red bolt of a stunning curse that was also aimed his way. When it came to wizarding duels, he'd made sure that he was completely undefeatable. However, he failed to have any knowledge of muggle martial arts, so when he was gripped up violently by his robes and pressed against the trunk of the whomping willow, he had no method of escape.

"Unhand me, Potter! I haven't done anything!" He shouted, thrashing helplessly in the stronger wizard's hold.

"Hasn't _done _anything, he says!" The boy shouted, looking back at his friends – one of which was frowning disapprovingly, and the other of which was grinning as if it was his birthday.

Snape gave up on escape as he felt a fist colliding violently with his right eye. Lovely. Potions N.E.W.T.'s were the next day and he could only see out of one eye.

"That's enough! Stop it, let him go!"

Both wizards looked up to see a familiar scrawny figure approaching them and moving them apart. "Can't you see his eye's gone black? How're we gonna explain that to Pomfry? On top of that, Dumbledore'll take at _least _a hundred points over this, and we can expect to be picking fleas out of Mrs. Norris for the next month."

At first they agreed, but Snape wasn't satisfied. They approached him for no good reason, tackled him against a dangerous tree – although admittedly it was apparently not moving – and then decided to let him go to avoid _trouble_? Hell no. He shot a curse out at all three of them, and landed them on their backs, but he wasn't fast enough to run off after that. Potter's next _levicorpus _had him dangling in the air so high and so violently that every article of clothing on the upper half of his body went falling to the ground.

Faintly, his attackers registered a golden shining from Snape's bundle of robes, but no one took much notice of it, seeing as he'd managed to keep hold of his wand, and with a shout of _liberacorpus _he was back on his feet. Red flashes of light dashed quickly at each other, and flew through the air like fireworks.

Then, all at once, four things were said:

"_Tarantallegra!" _

"_Sectumsempra!" _

"_Stupefy!"_

"_Petrificus Totalus!" _

Rather than reaching their targets, the flashes of light all met each other midair, and joined together. However, when they impacted, they also rebounded and ended up landing in Snape's heap of robes. Then, everything started spinning.

**XxBxExLxOxVxExDxX**

Harry froze in the hallway as he heard angry voices that seemed to be coming towards him. It was strange, as if he was slightly familiar with the speech pattern… but he didn't really want to count on that. He tightened his Invisibility Cloak around himself, but it didn't matter. The voices _were _getting closer, and he had nowhere to go. These people would eventually collide with him if he wasn't careful…

"Sectumsempra? Honestly, Snivellus were you trying to kill us or something? What the hell is wrong with you?"

"As if yours was any better. It's a good thing I _wasn't _trying to kill you. What good is Tarantallegra? Making me dance around like a spider isn't going to help anyone with anything at all."

"Shut up, both of you! Haven't you noticed yet? It's dark, and cold, and the floor's all shiny."

"Lovely observation, Moony. Now why do we care about shiny floors? How about the fact that I feel like I've been spinning in circles for an hour?"

"No, Remus is right. The floor's never this nice. Looks brand new, doesn't it? And I could swear that it was midafternoon in April. So why _is _it all cold and dark?"

The other three wizards silenced at that. It was then that they heard the breathing. All four of them focused their eyes on Harry, and the Boy Who Lived felt himself tense under their gaze. He knew those faces… he was sure of it… but… that was absolutely impossible.

They made a semi-circle and approached him as a unit, so that he couldn't escape. It was hopeless. In mere seconds, they'd yanked the cloak off of him. The first voice he'd heard stared incredulously at the cloak. "Who're you? And how did you get this?"

Who was he? Seriously? Harry wasn't one to pride himself in his fame, and he didn't have much of an ego issue. However, one does not ask _Harry Potter _who he is. He was on the cover page of every newspaper out there from the day he was born. He'd gone from _The Boy Who Lives _to _The Boy Who Lies _but it made no difference. He was famous. He reached up to his head, making sure that the scar wasn't somehow hidden from view. No, they could definitely see it.

"I'm Harry." He said, neglecting to share his last name because of some strange instinct that told him it was not yet time to reveal so much.

"And how did you _get _that?" This time it was another of the boys speaking to him. He studied him carefully: Dark wavy hair hanging freely to his shoulders, electric blue eyes, young handsome face, strong build… there was no way…. It was impossible.

"It's mine. I've had it for years."

The two boys looked at each other as if they were trying to decide whether or not it was appropriate to attack the new stranger. Another young wizard stood carefully in front of Harry, as if to guard him.

"Friend of yours, Snivellus?" The one with the long hair hissed out.

"No, just someone else who shouldn't be harmed for no good reason. He says the cloak is his. So, it's his."

"I had a perfectly good reason for blacking your eye out, _Snape! _My own girlfriend won't even fucking talk to me because she's moping over _you_!"

Snape? Okay, this was starting to get strange… Harry peeked around the body of his protector and examined them all very carefully. He then turned to the boy who was looking out for him. This couldn't be the Snape he thought it was. Firstly, this kid was being _nice. _Secondly, Snape would never walk around topless. Lastly, Snape would never look so _good _topless.

"You're not… Severus Snape… are you?"

Black eyes looked down at green ones curiously. "I am. Why?"

"Do you know if many people share your name?"

"Don't think so… _why?" _

Harry took a deep breath, and tried to calm himself.

"What's your exact birthdate?"

Snape frowned, and for a moment Harry thought he wouldn't answer, but he did.

"January ninth. Nineteen Sixty."

"So… how old are you now?"

"Sixteen. Why are you asking me all these questions?"

"So… you think it's Nineteen Seventy Six."

Harry could hear them mumbling about how he was crazy, but he ignored it. If these people were from the seventies… then they may well _all _be exactly who they looked to be.

"You think this cloak is yours, right?" He asked, looking pointedly at the cloak of invisibility and addressing a young chestnut-eyed brunette with familiarly unruly hair.

"Yes. It's mine. I'd know it anywhere."

For the first time, the fourth boy spoke. He had been looking at Harry very deliberately throughout the entire conversation and seemed to be having a mental war with himself.

"Does no one else see this resemblance, or are we all ignoring it?"

Slowly, three of them backed up, looking back and forth between Harry and the boy holding the cloak. The long wavy haired one gave an affirmative nod.

"Yep. This bloke looks exactly like you, Prongsie." He said, speaking to the wizard still left standing stupidly next to Harry.

"No he doesn't!"

"You're making yourself sound as stupid as a troll, Potter. Clearly there's an uncanny resemblance."

"We look nothing alike! He's skinnier, and my hair's longer and… and his eyes. Look at his eyes!"

Harry felt slightly uncomfortable as three boys closely examined his eyes. Snape gasped slightly, and there was a light whisper of "Oh my…" from the most soft-spoken of the three.

"I have my mother's eyes." Harry said carefully. "I believe you were the first person who told me that… Remus."

The werewolf's eyes widened. "This is impossible… we're in the future, aren't we? And you… you're James and Lily's son! That's why you were trying to figure out what year we think it is!"

Harry nodded slowly.

"No way!" James yelled. "Lily's not even on good terms with me! There is no way we end up married!"

"Make him prove it."

"You're name is Sirius Orion Black. You were born in Nineteen Fifty Nine, and…" Harry choked on his words, and understanding swept across Lupin's face as he saw a single reluctant tear rolling down Harry's cheek. "And you died… You died on June eighteenth, Nineteen Ninety Six… That was five months ago. To the day."

Sirius shook his head, not comfortable with knowing his own time of death.

"How?" James whispered, believing the emotion in Harry's eyes.

"Trying to protect _me. _He's my godfather. Enough of that, though. I don't want to think about it. You," Harry pointed to Lupin. "Are Remus Lupin. Known as 'Moony' to your fellow marauders, because of your reaction to the full moon, after you were bitten by Fenrir Greyback. You're a loyal friend and in about fifteen years you'll be the best Defense Against The Dark Arts professor that Hogwarts has ever seen."

Remus smiled, glad to know that at least for now his future self was still alive and well.

"Now we have James Potter. My father. Murdered when I was only a year old for reasons that were, until this school year, quite a mystery. You're an unregistered animagus in the form of a stag, and you've been in love with Lily Evans for about a year and a half now. You're the seeker on Gryffindor's quidditch team, and you have a knack for getting into trouble. My invisibility cloak was passed down to me because it was yours."

Harry allowed himself a deep breath, and tried not to look at his father or Sirius, knowing that he'd definitely burst into tears as soon as he made eye contact. It was unfair. It just wasn't fair. How could he feel so comforted in telling them this? They must hate him. Yep. They probably hated him. When they got back to the past, they'd change everything and he wouldn't even be born – then maybe they could save themselves.

Snape was still staring at Harry's eyes.

James gulped. "And Snivellus?"

Harry offered a supportive grin. "Still a greasy git."

It felt as if a short wave of optimism had finally run its course, and Snape was back to being all cold and broody again. He frowned to himself, and stalked away from them, hoping to find out if Professor Dumbledore was still alive and able to fix this mess. _Still a greasy git. _Figures the child would take more after it's troll of a father than its angel of a mother.

Snape seriously hoped he could get back to the past…. Because two Potters in one Hogwarts was sure to ruin his chances of a happy present.

**A/N: How are you guys liking it so far? Hopefully you're liking it! Please review and let me know what you think either way! **

**I love you for reading! **

**-Beloved**


	2. The Stupidest of Them All

**A/N: This story isn't as slow moving as it starts, and this chapter is ESPECIALLY slow for the plot; but don't worry! I think that if you've already made it here you'll have a good time watching this story unwind itself. I've been happy in writing it so far, and I hope you're equally if not MORE content in reading! **

**Enjoy! **

"You always did make quite the entrance, Severus." Dumbledore commented lightly to a very disturbed but very familiar looking sixteen year old as the upset child billowed into the office. Even topless, he had such a stride that all attention in the room would fix on him. In this particular case, that was rather easy – seeing as the only others in the room were Dumbledore and the snoozing portraits of the past headmasters.

Snape managed not to be shocked that Dumbledore _wasn't _shocked. Of course the insane old bastard knew everything that happened the minute it happened, so it was only natural that he'd host no visible reaction on his elderly features as a childlike version of a man he knew was an adult appeared before him.

"Professor, I haven't the slightest idea how I got here, but I need you to get me back to my time!"

"Yes, I'd thought you'd say as much." Dumbledore replied, popping something bright yellow into his mouth and giving a thoughtful suck. "Unfortunately, I'll have to keep you here for quite some time, Severus. To obliviate a mind as young as yours would be detrimental, and you have already acquired information that I couldn't send back to the past, at the risk of changing the future."

Snape sneered. "How does keeping me here for _more _time make sure that I don't change the future?"

"If you were to turn seventeen, no matter what time period you turn seventeen in, then I'm sure the ministry wouldn't oppose to letting you get obliviated and sent back."

"But I've only just turned sixteen at the beginning of this year!" Snape hissed out angrily.

Dumbledore offered nothing more than a sympathetic frown. "Severus, I have spoken with my past self about this and we both agree that it's for the best."

For a moment, the possibility that Dumbledore was able to time travel at will and have discussion with himself in the past was a shock to Snape, but even at sixteen years of age; he'd already learned that there were only few things the elderly headmaster was truly incapable of.

"Fine… I'll stay here without putting up a fuss." He grumbled, sinking gloomily into one of the strangely comfortable chairs in front of Dumbledore's desk. Too comfortable, actually. There was probably some sort of spell on it that made you not want to get up until you were asked to leave. Just as Snap was about to inquire about whether or not the chairs were charmed, the doors flew open again.

Blue twinkling eyes seemed to be chortling at the Irony, as the Headmaster said for the second time that day: "You always did make quite the entrance, Severus. In fact, this is the best one yet."

He was ignored.

"Albus, there are no less than _six _Gryffindors out of their beds, and Minerva has spontaneously decided to _reward_ them points at this hour! I cannot be certain who all of them are, but I'd bet my left- well, I'd be willing to bet something of significance that three of the six are your little Golden Trio."

At this, Dumbledore laughed lightly. "Please, Professor Snape, take a seat."

"_Professor?_" The younger Snape hissed out in disbelief, mouth agape as he took in his elder self. Alas, the older Severus realized he wasn't alone with the headmaster and lowered his gaze to the boy in the chair. His eyes widened for a moment, but he was struck silent and unable to say anything. That was… no… it couldn't be…. But it definitely… did his hair really _always _look like that?

"There's no way I end up teaching at Hogwarts! I hate children _now, _and _I'm _still a kid!" Young Snape argued, frowning disappointedly at his future self, clearly quite frustrated that he'd ended up with what he considered to be a very lousy job.

"Professor, please take a seat. If I must ask you again, I may be inclined to use underhanded methods." Dumbledore said, convincing the older Snape to sit down – and immediately calm in doing so.

"Now that we're all comfortable, I think it would be quite emotionally unwise to move your sixteen year old self into your private rooms. Don't you agree, Professor?"

Snape gave a slow nod, still unable to find his words. His younger self gazed over at him curiously for a moment, eyes fixing on his hair – and he couldn't help but wonder if they were sharing the same thoughts.

"Right, well, we certainly can't have our four time travelers roomed together. They'd kill each other. So, here is my proposition: We can fit two more beds into our sixth year Gryffindor boys dormitory – but only two. Hogwarts is suffering through enough challenges with space as it is – what with the children over abusing that room of requirement. So, I'm afraid I shan't ask our loving castle to make more room for us. Thus, if we're to move our three Gryffindor time travelers _in, _we'll have to move one of the Gryffindors in that room _out._"

The elder Snape was able to catch his tongue, and snorted audibly, rolling his eyes. "Naturally, you'll inconvenience Potter, yes?"

"Yes, Severus. I will , again, ask a little too much of our young Harry. He will receive a room in the lower chambers of the astronomy tower. He'll enjoy that."

"What about me?" the younger Severus asked, unable to ignore the fact that everyone was well accommodated aside from himself.

Dumbledore offered a soft smile. "You're almost _too _easy to place. You'll be right next to yourself, in the Dungeons. Far enough apart to stay out of the way, and close enough to turn to someone you trust in time of need. You _do _trust Professor Snape, don't you, Severus?"

The question sounded strange on both of their ears.

"I don't really know… him… me… him… us… we don't really know each other."

"Which is exactly why instead of attending regular classes like you were in the past, you'll be shadowing Harry Potter."

"WHAT?" Both Snapes asked incredulously.

But, Dumbledore had _that_ twinkle in his eyes. The one that meant that no matter what he was about to say, he wouldn't say it in its entirety – and no matter what you had to ask afterwards, he wouldn't answer to the best of his ability. He had the _"I'm meddling, but I want you to figure out why for yourself." _Twinkle.

"Harry Potter is a very important and influential part of the present wizarding world. It's only natural that shadowing him will help young Severus to better grasp current events."

Yeah, right. If Dumbledore wanted him to grasp current events, he'd toss him into a pensieve – or better yet, put the _Quibbler _in his right hand and _The Daily Prophet _in his left, and let him sort out the middle for himself. No, there was another reason that Dumbledore was forcing the son of the man young Snape hated, and the sixteen year old version of the man that Harry Potter hated to spend every day together. That much was certain. However, both Snapes knew better than to argue. They sat in broody silence, listening to the headmaster thoughtfully sip at his tea.

"Oh, you may go now. Professor Snape, please show this kind boy to his new rooms."

The walk to the dungeons was cold, but they were both used to that. They didn't speak a single word to each other until they reached the younger Snape's door.

"These are your rooms. The password is _potions _until you change it to something you prefer. I still don't like children. That includes _you. _Good night, Mr. Snape." With that, the elder Snape drifted off silently to his own rooms, trying to think of anything _ but _the fact that four of his least favourite people in the world would be around him now.

How could he do it? It was a four on one war. Remus he had no opinion of whatsoever, but those others… such idiots… such utter _fools _they were. Indeed. The four most daft individuals he'd ever known:

James Potter, Harry Potter, Sirius Black… and Severus Snape.

The last was the stupidest of all.

**A/N: Thanks so much to those who reviewed and favourited! I hope that those of you who reviewed have come back to this chapter and will review again, and I hope that those of you who chose only to favourite or subscribe will also bless me with a review this go round xD **

**Much love to all the people who read this, **

**-Beloved**


	3. The Wand Chooses the Wizard

Dumbledore was right when he'd suggested that Harry would enjoy his new living area. Having a room just below the height of the Astronomy tower meant that Harry could spend his nights up there star-gazing, even without the need of the Invisibility Cloak – though he did keep it close by, in case a certain moody care-taker decided to come wandering. Also, this was the first time in life that Harry had enjoyed the priveledge of having one's own bedroom. At Privet Drive, it was nearly impossible to enjoy _anything_, because he was always woken early to do chores; even during grey rainy weekends, that simply _begged _to be spent in bed. At the Burrow and at Hogwarts, Harry always boarded with Ron. Now, he had privacy, _and _peace – a combination that he was formerly unfamiliar with.

It did, however, come with its downsides. Harry was still permitted to spend time in the Gryffindor common room – however, he found that without a need to go there every day, it was difficult to remember the passwords. The Fat Lady had gotten very antsy about them as of late, and had tendencies to change them on a whim. Harry had, on one occasion, made the mistake of asking her why she was being so stingy and unstable about the passwords while he was in the company of a certain long-haired marauder, and she had launched into a dramatic reenactment of the night that adult-Sirius had tried to break in. Her blatant ill-feelings towards the man thoroughly traumatized the child Sirius (though he was much too arrogant to admit it) and he learned quickly to linger behind larger students when coming and going so as not to draw too much attention to himself.

Still, having the marauders around was a blast, and dozing atop the Astronomy tower was a much appreciated perk. No, what disturbed Harry was the constant presence of Severus Snape. Twenty years had made absolutely no difference in him at all. Or at least, that was what Harry had thought, at first.

His first day with Snape shadowing him had been a complete disaster. This was probably because he happened to be cursed with double-potions with the Slytherins first thing that morning, and double-defense that afternoon. This meant that Harry had to be shadowed by a young Snape during Slughorn's class, and then again in Snape's adult self's. Having the younger Snape in potions was painstakingly clarifying.

Harry had never understood until that day, why Severus Snape taught potions.

Sure, he knew the guy must have been a fair master of the brew. But no – he was a genius. If he was this good at only sixteen, then Harry had no doubt he was absolutely _fearsome _now. The kid didn't even need a book.

They'd come in, five minutes late – much to Severus' malcontent – and Slughorn had immediately put on his best grin. Harry still had no idea why no one at Hogwarts was gossiping or even thinking it odd that the time-travelers were here. He suspected Dumbledore had managed to slip something into everyone's pumpkin juice that mad them aware of this phenomena but have no care for it whatsoever. Actually, whatever is was most likely had been brewed by Snape for the occasion, which was somehow hilariously ironic in Harry's opinion.

Anyway, Slughorn had made that quirky smile of his at them, and asked Snape if there was anything he'd need. Snape had given a very stiff and certain nod, and stayed true to his word. Although he ended up – thank god – being paired with Draco Malfoy, rather than Harry himself; the boy who lived couldn't help but notice that Snape's potion was effortlessly perfect. And he _hadn't _touched the book. At all. Draco was very smug. Crabbe and Goyle were not – seeing as without Malfoy volunteering to bully someone smarter into partnering with them, they were only left with each other. It was a well-known fact that even between the two of them, they could only muster about an eighth of a brain, and they somehow managed to make anything they tried to put into their cauldron turn immediately into a Pepto-Bismol-pink tree-frog and begin to hop around the classroom.

After class, when Harry had tried to very politely inquire how it was that Snape didn't even use his book, ("You're really good in there, huh? I noticed you didn't even look down to read anything, have you made this draught before?") He merely got a very snooty response, that yes, of course, Snape had made such a potion before. Harry was a fool to not recall that he had been just about to _take_ his potions N.E.W.T.'s when he'd been blasted to the future, so he should, of course, be able to handle anything that was thrown at Harry's mediocre potions class during the first term. He then proceeded to boast that _his _potions book had all of his corrections and margin notes in it, and he absolutely refused to look at another one that was so heinously unmarked. That last comment had been particularly interesting to Hermione, but Harry had failed to notice the way she looked pointedly at the very worn copy of _Advanced Potion Making _that Harry was still grasping in his left hand.

If Harry had thought potions was bad, DADA was _horrible. _Snape had completely ignored his younger self. When young Severus did something wrong, Snape treated him as if he was Malfoy and pretended he didn't see his wrongdoing, and when young Severus did something _right _he was treated like Hermione – again as if this was the norm and should be ignored.

Somehow both Snapes decided that the fact they weren't getting along was entirely James and Harry's fault. Both Potter boys wore identical expressions of incredulity when they were given joint detention with grown-up Snape for terrorizing younger Snape.

"We didn't even do anything!" It was Harry who'd said it. He had the hotter temper between the two of them, and James was still to freaked out at seeing _Snivellus_ full grown to say anything to the man anyway.

"Potter, seeing as it is your responsibility to keep Mr. Snape happy, out of trouble, and unharmed – I think it only fair that you take punishment for the incident in my class this afternoon."

"That's not fair at all," Harry argued. "He's the one that attacked Da-er... James with silent wandless magic! It's only natural that D-James would counter that by hexing him before he had time to throw up a shield!"

Snape scowled. "I will have _both _of you little Potters know that silent wandless magic is _not _against the rules in a Defense Against the Dark Arts course taught at N.E.W.T. level. Tell me, Harry – does our golden boy tell the Dark Lord that wandless magic is _unfair?_ Or does he keep his few-and-far-between brain cells _focused _on the matter at hand?"

Harry was fuming at this point, and James was caught somewhere between being very proud of his son to stand up to such an intimidating professor, and very sad in knowing that his genes would apparently have this poor boy in a world of trouble…

"No, Snape, I wouldn't whine about _Voldemort_," Harry hissed out the name, "Using a cheap shot, but I also wouldn't get in trouble if I hexed him back for it!"

His words were wasted on uncaring ears. Which was why now, a month after the fact, Harry was finally serving his detention with Snape. The potions master had been busy before this time on private missions for Dumbledore, Voldemort, and the Order, and on one hand Harry was delighted that he'd lasted this long without being able to serve the detention – while on the other, he felt slightly sympathetic that the man had so many responsibilities, he couldn't even find time out of _one _night to punish his most loathed student.

As Snape billowed into the classroom, he was mildly disappointed to see that Harry had – for once – been rather punctual in his coming. Still, he had to hound about _something _didn't he?

"Potter, it is now exactly eight o'clock. This leads me to assume that you were in this room waiting for me at seven fifty nine. Trespassing in my office during unpermitted hours. Five points from Gryffindor."

Harry's jaw dropped. Even for Snape, that wasn't fair. He'd have lost five points for being late, either way though. So it was really a no win situation unless he'd arrived exactly at eight like Snape himself did.

"Tonight, you will be given the opportunity to fully understand our school's rules, Potter. Since you seem so keen on breaking them. The Headmaster has been so kind as to loan me the official first copy of the Hogwarts School Rulebook, as written by Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw, and Slytherin themselves. You will have the fortune of copying said book word for word onto parchment, and then binding the pages into a perfect replica. Unfortunately for me, Dumbledore does not see it fit that I force you to carry this book on your person at all times. Not to worry, though – just to make _sure_ you don't forget the rules, you will also be privileged enough to recreate the text two _more _times, so that Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger will also have copies."

Snape held out his hand, and Harry knew without having to ask that he was supposed to hand over his wand. Lovely. He'd be doing it by hand, then. The task sounded like it would be a lot more difficult than it was. In fact, although it was frustrating to remember the different spellings of _olde English _writing, Harry was quite pleased that he'd been stuck with the original Hogwarts rule book – rather than the new one. He quickly learned that the founders had thought up much less to make rules about than Argus Filch had, and the old book was probably only about as long as a quarter of the new one. Maybe even less.

Still, it _was _rather long – and when the clock tower alerted them that it was midnight, Harry still hadn't even finished with the first copy, much less the binding, and Ron and Hermione's. He looked up at Snape and hoped that the man saw the tiredness in his eyes, and remembered that he had to be up early for class in the morning. Much to Harry's surprise, Snape _had _been watching him and seen him groggily look up.

"Let me see what you've managed so far, Potter."

"Yes, Sir." Harry responded, and gathered up the parchment he'd been writing on, before setting it out in front of Snapes desk. For a moment, Harry thought the professor was actually going to _read _all of that, but the man merely waved a wand over it and nodded his head. "Only four hours here and you're nearly half way through … I am … impressed."

Harry shrugged. "If you don't mind my saying so, sir – I do believe I have a bit of an advantage when it comes to writing. Everything seems to go much simpler when it's not my own blood on the parchment."

Harry was at first quite certain that the amused smile on Snape's face must have actually been in enjoyment of his punishment with Umbridge – but somehow he knew it wasn't. Snape thought something else was amusing, though Harry doubted he'd ever know what.

"You will one day discover, if you pay attention, that there are a great many things in the world that will come easier to you if you're not bleeding while trying to attempt them. Go to sleep, Potter. I won't have you snoring in my office. You shall receive my owl when I next have the time to allot you, and the patience to deal with your impertinence. Goodnight."

Harry nodded, and accepted his wand as it was handed back to him. He refused to take the bait and _be _impertinent by cheekily commenting on how _not _impertinent he'd been. Instead, as he wandered off towards his beautiful new bedroom in the Astronomy tower, he let his mind go through more practical things – like the fact that he was almost certain Hermione would already own a copy of the founder's rule book, so making her one for detention was pointless.

He did _not _think about the oddity that Snape had checked his work with Harry's wand, instead of his own. He did not even think to look back on that memory and _notice _the way Snape's entire body clenched for a moment as he performed the spell.

No, Harry wouldn't think anything about Snape and his wand even a few moments later, when he used that wand to warm his bed before getting in it – and decided that the warmth spreading up through his veins must have been because he'd tried to heat the mattress too aggressively or something.

Harry slept that night, and for many nights after that, never realizing the dramatically compatible way in which he and Snape's magic had mingled. The problem, was that Snape_ had_ noticed it right away – and he was _not _pleased.

**A/N: No more beginning authors notes. Sorry. I've stopped doing them, and actually gotten a couple messages from people telling me that they miss them. Oh well. I already write the whole damn chapter, you can't get mad at me for not blabbing about it first -_- **

**I hope you enjoyed this! Please let me know what you're thinking in a review! **

**I love all of my readers! Even the muggles! **

**-Beloved**


	4. Marked

Severus Snape was brooding in his bath tub. He had absolutely no idea why Albus insisted on sticking Gryffindors and Slytherins together for DADA classes. It was practically an _invitation _for them to begin dueling at will and not stop until someone was bleeding profusely enough to quiet the Gryffindors down, or someone was using a curse dark enough to momentarily distract the Slytherins. Today, he had witnessed his younger self experimenting the effectiveness of the (probably recently invented) _sectumsempra _on a very furious James Potter. Luckily, the curse still wasn't all the way up to par, (as it wouldn't be until that summer if he remembered correctly) but it still did enough damage to give James the equivalent of paper cuts all over his body. His younger self was completely unaffected by his dueling partner's pain, and merely scribbled down a note in his defense book, and sat down there on the floor – clearly trying to research a little more on the spell and its effects.

Sirius had taken advantage of the young Severus' studious vulnerability, and tried to silently stupefy him, only to have Severus quickly shielded by _Granger _of all people; which was just thoroughly unacceptable. This led to a row between Sirius and the intelligent girl, only to be silenced by Remus – who clearly had a crush on the bushy haired teen.

Oh, to be young and in love... Severus was glad not to suffer through _that _again.

His teen crush was of course much more suitable than Lupin's. Lily Evans was in every way more impressive than Hermione Granger, and Severus knew by the visible smugness of his younger self that they were both aware of this fact. Still, if he was correct on the time-line of his remembrance, this was actually the year he'd finally gotten _over _thinking of Lily as a potential lover, and moved on to caring for her in a more platonic but equally passionate way. Ah, yes. At the end of that year, he'd be caught in the throws of passion with Regulus Black and reignite his rivalry with Sirius, only pushing Lily farther away from him as she had to choose between her lover's friends and her own. Lovely. His teen self had a lot of misery to look forward to, especially because Regulus was not at all gentle, or caring of the fact that he was Snape's first.

His dark musings were interrupted by a knock on his door, and he sighed, looking down at himself, standing in the water and exiting the bathroom, securing a towel around his entire midsection. He knew that it made him look like a woman, but he'd rather feel emasculated by whoever was knocking than have them stare at the scars all over his chest. They were his least favorite of the many scars that littered his body, if only because they had the most stupid reason for being there. The first time he'd discovered how to cast _sectumsempra _correctly, it had been aimed at _himself._

He opened the door to his rooms and glared down automatically before registering who had come calling. It was him. That felt odd to think, but that's who it was. The younger Severus seemed to consider being embarrassed by his elder self's state of undress, but Snape could visibly see the child reasoning that it was just as much his body as it was the elder man's and he shouldn't feel any way at all about it.

"Sorry to disturb your bath, Professor," Ever the polite child, even to people he despised. His poor little self was so superior to all the dunderheads at this school, even if he _was _an ignoramus when it came to basic morals and life changing decisions. "But Professor Slughorn has assigned us homework that is impossible to do, and although _I _know this, I have reason to believe that _he _doesn't – and expects us to complete this nonsense and turn it in."

Severus did not doubt his younger self's proficiency in potions, nor did he doubt Professor Slughorn's ability to make an idiot mistake. He extended his right arm to the parchment and glowered down at it, his eyes darting over the words as he looked it over.

"This potion contains dragons breath _and _phoenix tears?"

His younger self nodded. "Yes, meaning that-"

"It will explode within twenty four hours of it's creation unless brewed under the full moon, which is not for another three weeks. I'll alert Professor Slughorn immediately, Severus. Thank you for your concern."

"Of course, Professor. Also, Professor, a boy called Seamus Finnigan chose not to heed my warning and finished brewing his about this time yester-" there was a soft explosion right above them, in a space that Snape knew to be an empty classroom where Harry and his friend's liked to muck about. "... day." the young Severus finished, clearly trying not to smirk.

Figures the _one _time Finnigan concocted a potion correctly, it would be one that exploded of it's own accord. Snape sighed, lifting his left hand and pinching the bridge of his nose, as if to will away stress. He heard his younger self gasp.

"I … I wouldn't... I _couldn't _have!"

Younger Severus was staring at the dark mark with absolute horror and fear. Tears were building in his eyes, which was a true sign of how upset he was – Severus Snape did _not _cry over spilled milk.

"_Why? _Why would we _do _that! We just _can't _be in league with him! After what he did to Mum and Dad! What's _wrong _with you?"

How does one explain to ones former self, that yes, they did willingly take Voldemort's mark, and no, they were not a death eater, but yes they still behaved as if they were loyal to Voldemort, but no, they actually mean it – because yes, they _were _loyal to Dumbledore, but yes, they _did _still think he was an old fool, and yes, there had been a point where they were entirely loyal to Voldemort, but by the way, did you know it's kind of our fault Lily dies? Snape couldn't say a single word about it.

"Answer me! Why? After he tortured them in _front of you! _Because of _what? _You _know _Mum loved Dad, you _know _it's not her fault he's a muggle! How could you join someone like that? How could you-"

"Would you please just _shut up!" _He hissed at the boy. "Clearly my choices are all choices that _you're _going to make, so don't sound so high and mighty. I'm not a twisted image of what _could _happen if you weren't who you are _now. _I am the person that you are _going to be _whether you like it or not – and the mark is a part of that!"

His younger self was openly crying now, and shaking his head as if he wouldn't accept it. "No, no I _won't _grow up to be you. I _can't_! Didn't you hear what Potter's son said? You-Know-Who _kills _Lily! He _kills her_! How can you take _his _side over _hers_! Don't tell me that she means _nothing _to you just because of some stupid rivalry with James! You _promised _her! You promised her that you'd _always _love her, _always_!"

"I _will!_" Snape yelled back, not giving himself the mental space to wonder when he'd become one of those people who actually takes the time to argue with hysterical children. "Don't think that I won't. I do love Lily, and I always will, and if you tell _either _Potter that, I'll snap your little neck – even if it _does _kill me too."

The younger Snape took a deep breath, clearly trying to calm himself. "You still love Lily?" He asked, as if _that _was the only important thing in his future.

Severus nodded, and his younger self nodded as well, then turned and left.


End file.
